She's the Manslaughterer
by PenelopeDalton
Summary: The smallest thing can leads to the biggest problem.Reviews are welcome.


It wasn't really much of a transition. I mean, I spent most days kicking people in the shins and kneeing them in the balls as it was, so violence was already second nature. The difference was, I'd never seriously hurt anyone until the game against the Kirkland Kingfisher's last summer. It was a crucial game and both Duke and I were worried for the Armadillos. The kingfisher's striker was infamous for his skills and, despite their name, they had left all other teams that had played them battered and bruised. We practiced day and night ensuring that our play would be tight and almost perfect, of course, there's only so much you can prepare for.

We could tell as soon as we arrived that it was going to be a difficult day, the pitch was soaked in a thick muddy sludge that would leave us sliding around if we weren't careful. Never the less, we came out of the wings in our usual spirit, our red kits brightening the bleak atmosphere. But even though we tried we could not keep the worry away once we saw them emerge clad in bright green with a frightening tenacity in their eyes and hear the deafening roar of the crowds already singing their victory cheer. The game began and we played hard, we played the best we had so far this season. The rush of the game ran through my blood giving the adrenaline to keep fighting. I was so focused on the ball that I didn't see him run out in front of me and by the time I had it was too late and the loud snap of a bone had already rang out through the field.

It was an honest to god accident but after the crowd had cleared and the team were congratulating me on taking out the other team's best player I could feel a smile break across my face and it felt good. You know, it's easy to get the taste for something and you don't really realise it until it happens. I didn't know it then but I'd been bitten by a bug, a vicious one that would leave me wanting more.

-XXX-

It was a couple of months later that my violent side really escalated, it was just a regular day and I was in a really good mood. Duke and I had spent all weekend together and I was just chilling at home, alone. Without anyone else there I was free to dance around like a maniac and sing at the top of my lungs, so as you can imagine, an unscheduled knock at the door totally threw me off of my buzz.

And just to make matters worse, it was Malcolm.

"Is Olivia here?" he asked, panic in his voice.

Since Sebastian and Olivia had been dating she'd been round the house near constantly and Malcolm, being obsessed with her, turned up from time to time in pursuit.

"No." I smiled sweetly, hoping that kindness may make him more willing to believe me and leave.

It didn't work and he leaned around me trying to look inside before pushing past me yelling.

"Olivia! Olivia!"

He'd made it half way up the stairs before I caught him, grabbing the back of his shirt in anger I pulled him back just a little too hard, but that was enough to make him topple down the stairs hitting his head as he did. Blood slowly matted in his brown hair and his eyes rolled back. I reached out to touch his neck.

No pulse.

The thing was, I didn't feel a thing, no panic, no sadness, certainly no shock at what I had done. In fact it felt good to know that I had finally gotten rid of the annoying idiot. The only thing that came to mind was how to make it look like I wasn't involved, and that didn't take much thinking about, everyone knew he was a creep anyway. I broke the window in the door from the outside made it look like a break in, and left to go to anywhere I could be seen, be witnessed, only to return and hour later and report what happened to the police over the phone. It was a simple case of a guy becoming too obsessed, breaking in and then tripping as he came down the stairs. The police came to the same conclusion; there was no reason for them not to. I played along, performing the part of a distraught teen who found a dead man on her floor and I was surprised by how it easy the whole thing was, so much so that I couldn't help contemplating what else I could do.

-XXX-

A couple of weeks before the last game of the season, I got an idea, the game was with Cornwall so just thinking about it brought up old memories. I was thinking about the hatred that boiled up between me and Justin and I couldn't stop the urge to hurt him and not just on the football field. I wanted him to know what it was like to be stabbed in the heart when you were betrayed by someone you thought you loved. I didn't really want to literally stab him in the heart, I wasn't that mean, I just wanted to simulate it and what could be better than a drug overdose. Not enough to kill him, just enough to make him beg for mercy and be out of action for a couple of weeks. But it had to look like an accident, a mistake he'd made, so of course the drug of choice would have to be steroids. So many players used it these days that he'd just be another tragic case of roids gone wrong, so, so tragic. The method was easy really, I'd just have to spike his water and with the adrenaline of the game it'd rush through his bloodstream before it even got to half time and then bam, a stab in the heart. It only took about ten minutes to form a plan and then I got to work.

By the time the game came around I was as ready as I could be and with the whole team prepped for a win my cheerful mood fit right in. As we ran in the crowd roared with a fierce intensity, and it felt like the whole field was erupting. The other team joined us and I couldn't keep my eye off of him, he was smiling, glaring at me, I smiled back before turning to huddle with my team. We played well and the other team were no match, I could easy watch him while playing without having to worry about my game. It wasn't until about twenty minutes in that you could see the effect on him, he was pale and sluggish, but unless you were watching you probably wouldn't see it and with all eyes on our side, nobody did.

Five minutes before half time, all hell broke loose. He fell, hard, as a ball came towards his goal and everyone saw it. Both teams ran towards him and the crowd stood trying to get a look at what was happening. I jogged over with them, fitting in with the crowd. As soon as I saw his face, I knew something had gone wrong, his face was white and creamy foam spilled from his mouth onto his orange shirt. I had read enough reports to know that he'd gone fatal. I couldn't understand it, I'd done everything right, the dosage was exact, unless...

He must have already been taking it.

I suppose I should have been more effected by the fact that I'd just killed my ex-boyfriend, but the only thing that bothered me was that I hadn't thought about the fact that he might have already been taking the poison that I was feeding him and as Monique ran over to him, tripping in her high heels, crying onto his slain body, I had to hold back my smile. Two birds with one stone.


End file.
